


Good Luck, Charlie!

by grimHarpy



Series: Back to Life [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, History of abuse, Isekai, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, PTSD, Reincarnation, Seeing the future, Visions, additional tags later - Freeform, foresight, in another world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimHarpy/pseuds/grimHarpy
Summary: Charlotte Cast has been murdered. But she woke up to none other than Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, standing over her. She’s been transported to Thedas, at the start of the Fifth Blight. With bloody visions and a wealth of knowledge, Charlie is on a mission to give this world the best future she can offer.
Relationships: Alistair Theirin/Female Tabris, OC/Zevran Arainai
Series: Back to Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994392
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

I’m humming ‘Sera was Never’ to myself as I browse snacks. I’ve been working on my Isabela cosplay lately, I have the hair and skin for it, just need a good outfit and fake piercings. When I get home, I’ll work on the clothes patterns. 

“Everybody on the ground!”

Four men in masks walk into the gas station, pointing guns at me, the cashier, and the one other customer. I drop onto my knees with my hands over my head, eyes wide with fear. One of the robbers walks into my aisle and chuckles, then strolls over and grabs me by my hair. I cry out as he drags me to the front of the store and bends me over the counter. 

“Look what I’ve got boys,” he snickers, and the other three chuckle. “We can have some fun when we’re done here.”

“Nonononono, please please, no!” I beg, pulling at his fingers in my hair. 

He fires his gun at the ceiling, the weapon right next to my ear, making me scream in fear and pain. 

“Shut up, or we’ll kill you!”

I’m so preoccupied with the man holding me that I only vaguely notice when they’ve finished cleaning out the register and the safe. Two of them grab me by the arms and legs and carry me out the doors and throw me into the back of a van. I scream in fear and distress but someone slaps me hard in the face, I taste blood. 

They bind my hands and ankles together with zip ties. I feel hands sliding up my thighs and under the skirt of my dress, and I try to move away. One of them puts a knife to my throat and puts a finger to their mouth in a “hush” gesture. A hand on my thigh reaches up and to pull down my panties, I feel a cold knife against my hip as they cut off the garment. 

I scream again and the man in front of me clamps a hand over my mouth and snarls. His knife pushes harder against my neck, it feels like it’s drawing blood. 

“Don’t we have something to shut her up?”

“We didn’t exactly plan on taking a girl, man.”

“She’s making too much noise!”

“Just kill her and dump her somewhere!”

“Please don’t! I’ll be quiet!” I beg, tears springing to my eyes. 

“Too risky.”

The knife digs deeper and slices across my neck, cutting it open, deep. I can’t breathe, I’m drowning in blood. I go limp and darkness overcomes me. 

“I bring you to this land, give you a new purpose,” comes a kind voice from around me. “Change events for the better, use your knowledge for the greater good.”

A flash of light has me squinting. I sit up, surrounded by long, dry grass. My dress and shoes are dirty, my hair frazzled. I remember what happened and I grab my throat, panicked. But there’s no sign of any wound. 

“And who are you, then?”

I jump and look behind me to see none other than Flemeth, in her sequel game armor. As she approaches I scramble to my feet, brushing dirt off my arms and legs. Looking around, I see her hut in the distance with an armored figure outside. 

“What’s going on?” I ask her, confused. 

“You’re not from this land, are you?” She cocks her head to one side, studying me. “I sense you have more knowledge of this place than any one person here. More knowledge than you should ever let on, if you are wise. You have not answered my question, however. Who are you, that appears so suddenly in my home?”

“My name is Charlotte,” I answer quickly, brushing dirt and twigs off my dress. “I don’t know how I got here. The last thing I remember is someone slitting my throat and then…”

_I bring you to this land, give you a new purpose. Change events for the better, use your knowledge for the greater good._

“I remember a woman’s voice… a new purpose, the greater good…”

“Then it seems you have been assigned a mission,” Flemeth replies with a small smirk. “Come, I will send you on your way.”

“Flemeth…” I say hesitantly. “Am I dead?”

“Do you feel dead?”

“No?”

“Then it stands to reason that you live. Come, you have work to do.”

I follow her through the grass to her hut. I recognize the figure as Alistair. His golden blonde hair is short and spiky in the front. His brown eyes are kind but disciplined, though they’re currently filled with a catastrophic pain of loss. And he is **tall**! I come up to his shoulders but I’m just short. His ears are just the slightest bit pointed but you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it. He’s in an impressive looking set of Grey Warden warrior armor, and it gives him a slightly intimidating aura. 

“Alistair?” I mumble to myself as I approach him.

“Sorry, do I know you?” The furrow in his brow deepens. 

“No, but I know you,” I sigh, rubbing my forehead in confusion. 

My mind is reeling. What the hell is going on? I should be dead. Is this some kind of afterlife reincarnation bullshit? Why would I be sent into Thedas?

“Who is the other Warden?” I ask him, combing my hair with my fingers. 

“Her name is Asharis, but I don’t know how she’s holding up,” he sighs worriedly. 

“She’ll be fine, trust me.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“Right, sorry. My name is Charlotte, I’m… not from here.”

“‘Not from here’? That’s not vague at all.”

“It’s not the most pressing issue right now,” I say dismissively. “We need Asharis to wake up.” 

As if on cue, the door to Flemeth’s hut opens and a young elven woman wanders out. I study her as she approaches. She’s about the same height as me, light freckled skin, soft green eyes and shoulder-length red hair. She has no Vallaslin so she must be a city elf. She’s also wearing Grey Warden rogue armor, which she looks amazing in. 

“See?” Flemeth nods. “Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much young man.”

“You’re alive!” Alistair says in both relief and shock. “I thought you were dead, for sure!”

“It’ll take more than a few darkspawn to kill me,” she says wearily.

“This doesn’t seem real,” Alistair laments. “If it weren’t for Morrigan’s mother, we’d be dead on top of that tower.”

“Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad,” Flemeth speaks up with a slight frown. 

“I’m sorry I just don’t know what to call you. You never told us your name.”

“She is the Witch of the Wilds, Flemeth, _Asha’bellanar_ , the Mother of Vengeance,” I supply evenly, though my hands are shaking slightly. 

“ **The** Flemeth? From Chasind legend?”

“Show her respect, young man,” I tell him sternly, bowing slightly to Flemeth. 

“Such reverence is unnecessary, child,” she chuckles, then turns seriously back to the Wardens. “I do know a bit of magic and it has served you both well, has it not?”

“We can’t be safe here, where’s the rest of the darkspawn?” Asharis asks tiredly.

“The largest part of the horde has moved on, we are safe enough for now. Old Flemeth knows a thing or two about hiding. The longer you are here, the less that is true, however. These things will notice you eventually.”

“If you’re Flemeth, you must be very old and powerful,” the elf says cautiously. 

“Must I? Age and power are relative. It depends on who is asking. Compared to you? Yes, on both counts.”

“Then why didn’t you save Duncan?” Alistair asks pleadingly. “He is- he was… our leader.”

“I am sorry for your Duncan,” Flemeth answers as I give him a sympathetic frown, “but your grief must come later. In the dark shadows before you take vengeance, as my mother once said. Duty must come now. It has always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to unite the lands against the Blights. Or did that change while I wasn’t looking?”

“Of course not!” Asharis nearly shouts as Alistair protests. 

“But we were fighting the darkspawn, the king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?”

“A good question. Men’s hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature,” I speak up, drawing their attention as Flemeth nods. 

“Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver? Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it, is the true threat.”

“The Archdemon,” Alistair growls. 

“We should contact the rest of the Grey Wardens,” Nessiara sighs, pinching her nose. 

“Cailan already summoned them,” Alistair starts.

“They’ll come if they can but it’s likely that Loghain will have taken steps to stop them. You must assume they won’t arrive in time,” I finish for him. 

“Okay, who are you?” Alistair asks frustratedly, turning his whole body toward me. 

“A question for later,” Flemeth says dismissively, and he frowns. 

“We need to find this Archdemon,” Asharis says, a determined look in her eye. 

“By ourselves?” Alistair seems doubtful. “No Grey Warden has ever defeated the Blight without an army of at least half our nations at his back. Not to mention, I don’t know **how**!”

“How to kill an Archdemon? Or raise an army? It seems to me that these are two different questions, hmm? Do the Grey Wardens have no allies these days?”

“I-I don’t **know**!” The templar stammers frustratedly. “Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called. And Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely!”

“The Arl of Redcliffe?” Asharis questions.

“I suppose… Arl Eamon wasn’t at Ostagar, he still has all his men. And he was Cailan’s uncle! I know him, he’s a good man, respected in the landsmeet. Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!”

I shift uncomfortably, annoyed as I remember the way Alistair was treated under Eamon’s watch. A chilly breeze brushes past me, rustling my sundress and I rub my arms to warm them as I shiver. I’ll be miserable in coldass Ferelden. 

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” the elf gives a cautious smile. 

“Such determination,” Flemeth chuckles. “How intriguing.”

“Eamon’s help will not be enough on its own against the Blight, you need help from more people,” I interject. 

“Of course!” Alistair exclaims. “The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They’re obligated to help us during a Blight!”

“I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else… this sounds like an army to me,” Flemeth smirks.

“So can we do this?” The templar turns to his fellow Warden hopefully. “Go to Redcliffe and these other places and… build an army?”

“I doubt it will be as easy as that,” she sighs and rubs her forehead anxiously. 

The witch laughs. “And when is it ever?”

“It’s always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to stand against the Blight, and right now we’re the Grey Wardens,” Alistair declares with fire in his eyes, and I try not to swoon, despite myself. 

“So you are set then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?”

“Yes,” Asharis answers, determination clear on her face. “Thank you for everything, Flemeth.”

“Nono, thank **you**. You are the Grey Wardens here, not I. Now, before you go, there is but two more things I can offer you.” The witch turns to give me a knowing smile. “This is Charlotte, she is a Seeress with knowledge of the past, present, and future. She will be a great asset to you on your journey.”

“I admit I’m not a fighter, but I’m nimble, fast, and can be taught easy enough,” I say awkwardly. “I have more knowledge than you would know what to do with. I can share it with you to make your journey far easier. I know secrets about both of you that few others know. I can whisper said secrets in your ears to prove my ability, if you need me to,” I offer. 

“Yes, prove it,” the elf nods. 

I step forward and lean into her ear, then whisper and quietly as I possibly can. 

“Adaia was killed by humans, but not before she taught you how to fight. She passed to you a dagger called the Fang of Fen’Harel. You were going to marry Nelaros but the Arl’s son and his men kidnapped you and the other women. You and Soris fought your way out but you couldn’t get to Shiani before they defiled her.”

I pull back and she stares at me with strained eyes and nods. Turning to Alistair, I gesture for him to lean down to me so I can whisper in his ear. 

“Your father was King Maric Theirin, though you were raised by Arl Eamon until Isolde had you sent away to the monastery when you were only ten years old.”

He gives me a startled look and takes a step back. 

“That’s creepy,” he mumbles, and I frown. 

“Satisfied?” I ask. 

“Yes,” Asharis nods again, having collected herself. “I’ll train you as a rogue, and we should get you some armor and weapons.”

“Thank you, you won’t regret this!”

“The stew is bubbling, mother dear, shall we have three guests for the eve, or none?” Comes Morrigan's voice from behind me. 

I turn to look at her and I gasp quietly. She’s pale but still slightly sunkissed. Her lips are luscious and dark, her yellow eyes piercing and sharp, surrounded by her charcoal makeup. Wisps of her thick hair fall loose around her face from the messy bun it’s tied up in. I’m astounded at how she doesn’t get cold in that skimpy ‘shirt’. If it could even be called a shirt. She’s slightly taller than me and Asharis but still shorter than Alistair. 

“The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them.”

“Such a shame- what?” 

“You heard me, girl. The last time I looked you had ears,” Flemeth chuckles. 

“That’s an excellent idea,” the elf chirps. 

“Have I no say in this?!” Morrigan bristles. 

“You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years,” Flemeth frowns. “This is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives.”

“Was this your idea from the start?” Asharis sighs. 

“Pardon me, but I had the impression that you needed assistance, whatever the form.”

“Not to… look a gift horse in the mouth,” Alistair begins cautiously, “but won’t this add to our problems? Outside of the Wilds, she’s an apostate.”

I pinch my nose and sigh as Flemeth responds tersely. 

“If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should’ve left you on that tower.”

“Point taken…”

“Mother,” Morrigan’s protest seems to border on a whine, “this is not how I wanted this. I’m not even ready-“

“You must be ready,” the old woman cuts her daughter off. “Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I.”

“I… understand,” the young apostate sighs defeatedly. 

“And you Wardens? Do you understand? I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you **must** succeed.”

“She won’t come to harm with us,” Asharis promises. 

“Allow me to get my things, if you please,” Morrigan sighs. 

As we all wait for her to return, Alistair and Asharis study me with different levels of suspicion. I sigh, and try to calm down. I’m still trembling in shock from being thrust into this insane situation. I **died**. And now I’m here. I lower myself to my haunches, hugging my knees together as I take deep soothing breaths. 

“Are you alright?” Alistair asks, sounding concerned. 

“I don’t know how I got here,” I mumble. 

I take a deep gasping breath as my panic starts to overcome me. I feel a cold, armored hand touch my shoulder and I flinch slightly then relax as it rubs my back gently. I look up and Alistair is crouched next to me, giving me a comforting look. 

“You said you’re not from here?”

“I’m from a place far away, far from Thedas,” I answer shakily. “I was… taken. And I woke up here.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he says soothingly. 

I take another deep breath and stand back up with him as Morrigan walks out. 

“I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens,” she says flatly. “I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.”

“No I prefer you speak your mind,” Asharis says politely and Flemeth laughs. 

“You will regret saying that,” she sneers. 

“Dear, sweet, mother,” Morrigan says sarcastically. “You are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment!”

“Well I always said, if you want something done, do it yourself. Or hear about it for a decade or two afterward.”

I snort loudly, then clear my throat awkwardly. 

“I just…” Alistair sighs. “Do you really want to take her along just because her **mother** says so?”

“We need all the help we can get, Alistair,” Asharis answers, annoyed slightly. 

“Morrigan has magic you will need,” I insist. 

“I guess you’re right. The Grey Wardens have always taken allies wherever they could find them.”

“I am so pleased to have your approval,” Morrigan sneers. 

“I actually have a few questions for you,” Asharis sighs.

“I may have answers, ask.”

“Have you never been outside the Wilds?”

“From time to time. I have been to the village I mentioned, watched it’s people, and pondered what curious beings they are.”

I pick at my nails anxiously as I step closer to Alistair, not really listening to the conversation as I’ve heard it a hundred times. I need to figure out how I’m going to survive in this world. I’m not exactly great when it comes to dealing with real world violence. My gymnastics experience will help in my rogue training. Maybe I can get Leliana to teach me some stealth secrets, it’ll make me feel better if I’m harder to spot. Ooh, Zevran too if I can convince Asharis to spare him. 

“Can you cook?” Alistair asks.

“I can cook!” I speak up, raising my hand awkwardly. 

“Excellent,” Asharis smirks, “you can substitute for Alistair.”

“Right,” he deadpans, “my cooking will kill us, that’s all.”

“Let’s get underway,” the elf announces, rolling her joints slightly as she readies herself. 

“Farewell, mother,” Morrigan says cheekily. “Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut.”

“Bah!” Flemeth scoffs, irritated. “It is far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my **hut** , swallowed up by the Blight!”

“I- all I meant was…”

“Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, dear.”

With that, Morrigan leads us away from the hut, into the Wilds. I stay close to Alistair. I know he’s a good man and he’d do his best to protect me in a fight, at least until I’m experienced enough as a fighter. We spend the rest of the morning walking through the marsh in relative silence. 

The sun is directly overhead as we walk along a path by an old ruin. I realize what’s about to happen as a mabari comes bounding towards us. I call out at the same time as Alistair. 

“Darkspawn ahead!” I shout. 

“Incoming!” He yells. 

Alistair glances at me in surprise as they all draw their weapons. I back away behind all of them as a small group of darkspawn runs up. They’re hideous creatures, like this world’s version of orcs. Their armor is flimsy but their skin seems thick, and they seem to be coated in a layer of black grime. Their lips are extremely cracked and bloody, their teeth bared threateningly. The Wardens are a brave organization indeed to face these things on a daily basis. 

I bite back a scream as a genlock barrels towards me and I dance aside, kicking it hard in the back as it passes. It falls and I pick up a large rock, beating it’s skull in. Black blood and ichor splatters across the ground, on my dress, my arms my legs. I’m careful to not let any of it near my mouth or eyes as I pant heavily, bringing the rock down on it’s head over and over.

I cringe and yell when I feel something touch my shoulder. It’s just Alistair, wearing a worried expression. 

“It’s over, you’re okay,” he tells me evenly. 

I drop the rock and clench my fists, trying to calm down. Asharis is interacting with the Mabari, petting it and cooing at it affectionately. I walk over to her with Alistair. 

“He’s the mabari you saved at Ostagar, he’s imprinted onto you,” I tell her wearily. 

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” she says happily. “Maybe this was meant to be!”

“Does this mean we’ll have this mangey beast following us about now? Wonderful,” Morrigan groans. 

“He’s not mangey!” Alistair coos at him. 

“What will you call him, Asharis?”

“Ugh, call me Ash, it’s quicker and easier,” she sighs. 

“Ash it is,” I shrug, calmer now. 

“I’ll call him… Nelaros,” Ash says decisively. “Nel for short.”

I raise my eyebrows at that but say nothing as she pets the dog with a wide smile and we continue our travel soon after. Alistair stares at the ground in front of him most of the afternoon, occasionally looking up towards the sky. 

“Hey,” I say quietly so only he can hear. 

“Hm?” He looks down at me warily.

“‘In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.’ He died with honor. And I know it doesn’t mean much to you right now, but he cared about you more than you realize.”

He stares at me, misty-eyed. He quickly looks away and clears his throat awkwardly with a sniff. We finally approach Lothering around sunset and, of course, the bandits are there waiting for us. We’re about a hundred feet away when my vision blurs and my eyes sting as something overtakes my mind. 

It’s the tavern in Lothering. We enter and Loghain's men confront the Wardens. When the fight breaks out I get caught in the middle, and a soldier stabs me in the gut, killing me. 

The vision dissipates and I find myself on the ground, being held up by Ash and Alistair. I’m crying hard and they look positively alarmed. I see why as I wipe my eyes and see blood on my hands. I take deep shuddering breaths and hold my hands to my chest. My poor dress is bloodstained to high hell and probably beyond saving. What the hell is going on here? My eyes still hurt and apparently I’m crying blood. 

“Can you hear me, Charlotte?” Ash asks slowly and I nod. “Do you know where you are?”

“The Imperial Highway,” I exhale slowly.

“What happened?”

“I think I had a vision. I don’t know what else it could’ve been.”

“A vision? You saw the future?” 

“I think so? I’m not sure.”

“What did you see?” Alistair asks. 

“In Lothering, we enter the tavern and some of Loghain’s men are there looking for Grey Wardens. It turns into a fight, I get caught in the middle, and one of them kills me.”

“Maker’s mercy…” 

Alistair shakes his head as they help me back to my feet. I hold onto his elbow as we walk forward, clinging to him desperately. He’s one of my favorite characters and I’d trust him with my life so forgive me if I’m a bit desperate for comfort in this fucked situation. The bandit leader walks out to meet us with a grin. 

“Wake up, gentlemen!” He calls cheerfully. “More travelers to attend to. I’d guess the pretty one’s the leader.”

He smirks down at Ash and I cringe as she bristles in anger. 

“Err… they don’t look like them others, you know?” A thick sounding man behind him says slowly. “Uhh.. maybe we should let these ones pass.”

“Nonsense!” The leader waves him off. “Greetings, travelers!”

“Highwaymen, preying on refugees fleeing the darkspawn I suppose,” Alistair mutters, holding me upright. 

“They are fools to get in our way,” Morrigan hisses. “I say, teach them a lesson!”

“Don’t be hasty,” I mumble, my knees still weak. 

“Now is that any way to greet someone? Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers, and you’re free to move on.”

“You’re toll collectors, then?” Ash asks incredulously. 

“Indeed! For the upkeep of the Imperial Highway! It’s a bit of a mess isn’t it?”

“Maybe you should charge more, then,” she says sarcastically. 

“You want to pay more? Well, we’ll happily accept donations,” he smiles awkwardly, a bit confused. 

“I’m just saying it’s a rough business for such a pittance,” she frowns, shifting her stance aggressively. 

“I could be mistaken, but that sounded threatening,” the leader frowns. 

“Sounded like a threat to me,” says the thick one. 

“Interesting, because you seem a bit outnumbered.”

“It’s hard to be outnumbered by common thugs,” Ash drawls. 

“Well, I can’t say I’m pleased to hear that,” he says conversationally. “We have rules, you know.”

“Right,” says the thick one happily, “we get to ransack your corpse. That’s the rules.”

“You can try,” Ash says challengingly, as she and Alistair draw their weapons. 

“Well this is going nowhere. Let’s finish this, gents!”

I back up and lean against the wall, away from the others as a fight breaks loose. Alistair and Ash easily carve through the bandits with the help of Morrigan’s magic. The leader screams a surrender and backs off, only two of his men remaining. 

“Alright! We surrender! We-we-we’re just trying to get by, before the darkspawn get us all!”

“Get by? You’re a criminal!” Ash shouts angrily. 

“Yes, I’m a criminal. I admit it! I apologize.”

“I’m turning you in to the authorities!”

“There aren’t any! Just the templars, and they’ll execute me!”

“Hand over everything you’ve stolen,” she says commandingly. 

“Yes, yes of course. The coins we’ve collected are right here, just over a hundred silvers.” He hands her a coin purse. “The rest is in the chests we brought. I swear!”

“Now you die, it’s all that you deserve,” Ash snarls. 

“I’m not going down without a fight!” 

He swipes at her but she ducks and sinks her blade into his neck, and he gurgles before falling aside. The other two bandits run off, terrified. Alistair and Ash search the chests for money, finding a pair of decent daggers on a belt. Ash hands them to me with a firm look and I fasten it around my waist. 

“Well,” Alistair starts casually as we overlook the village, “there it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting.”

“Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you?” Morrigan sneers. “Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?”

“Leave him alone, Morrigan,” I sigh. 

I brush my hair back from my face and most likely get blood in it. I need a way to tie my hair back. Morrigan scoffs at me dismissively. She almost definitely thinks I’m useless and I can’t blame her. Probably doubts my knowledge, and the vision I had. 

“Is my being upset so hard to understand?” Alistair asks, annoyed. “Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?”

“Before or after I stopped laughing?”

“Right, very creepy, forget I asked.”

“Get used to it, she’s always creepy,” I mutter, and she glares at me. 

“You have been rather quiet, Alistair,” Ash notes gently. 

“Yes, I know,” he frowns. “I was just… thinking.”

“No wonder it took so long-“

I jab Morrigan in the side with my elbow and glare at her to shut her up. She glares right back at me and I remind myself I don’t need her to like me. She’ll end up helping the Inquisition later whether she likes it or not. And I’ll annoy the crap out of her along the way. That’s assuming I’m able to join the Inquisition. I need to find the Hawkes while I’m here as well! Maybe Leliana can help. 

“Would it kill you to be friendly for a change?” I hiss at her. 

“I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so,” she frowns at me. 

“Anyway,” Alistair says, cutting off my opportunity to reply, “I thought we should talk about where we intend to go first.”

“I’m guessing you have an opinion on that?” Ash quirks an eyebrow at the templar. 

“I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties, have you looked at them?”

“Not yet, no.”

“There are three groups you have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the Circle mages, and the dwarves of Orzammar,” I explain quickly.

“I still think Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We may even want to go to him first,” Alistair continues, nodding to me. 

“Is there a way to contact the rest of the Grey Wardens?” Ash sighs. 

“Short of leaving Ferelden to seek them out, the only place we could send word to would be Weisshaupt Fortress, and that’s thousands of miles away.”

“Why are you leaving this up to me?” The elf frowns. 

“Well I don’t know where we should go,” he laments. “I’ll do whatever you decide.”

“Now that is unsurprising,” Morrigan comments with a smirk. 

“Arl Eamon is a good man but I don’t know for sure if he’s where we should go. I’m not going to fight about it.”

“We should go to the Circle of Magi first,” I suggest. “We **will** need the Arl’s help but he is deathly sick and we need help from the mages as soon as possible if we hope to save him. For now, we need more help and we can find it here in Lothering.”

“Alright,” Ash nods. “Let’s go, then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it took so long to post again but I’ve been trying not to hyperfocus on things anymore so I’ve been cycling through various activities. I’ll try to post at least once a month but hopefully more often then that.

We’re met with a less than friendly welcome. A man just outside the gates called Ash a knife-ear and told us to leave. Alistair and I had to hold her back from stabbing the ‘shem’. A templar politely advised us to move on from Lothering, saying it was lost. We reassured an elven family that the bandits had been killed and that their belongings might still be there. Ash settled a dispute between a merchant and a Chantry Sister, threatening to take his goods if he didn’t lower his prices. He relented and sold us a slightly less than decent set of leather armor for me that had a relatively snug fit, as well as a change of clothes. Some tents and backpacks, too. 

We approach the tavern and a young woman steps forward to meet us. I recognize her immediately as Hawke, her pixie cut and piercing teal eyes are a dead giveaway. 

“You might not want to go in,” she warns. “Tavern’s full, and those soldiers are being a nuisance.”

“Why is the tavern full?” Ash asks.

“Same reason the Chantry’s full, packed with people who’ve fled their homes. The tavern keeper’s letting people sleep on the floors but he can only fit so many. And those soldiers are getting restless.”

“Tell me about these soldiers,” Ash prompts. 

“They’re not here to defend us,” Hawke sighs, crossing her arms. “They were looking for someone… before they started drinking. I heard they almost killed a man because they didn’t like his face. I wonder if they’re deserters from the king's army?”

“You seem especially unhappy,” Ash says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Is there any reason to be happy?” She scowls. “With the king dead, the darkspawn will overrun Lothering before anyone can organize. You’d think the soldiers would at least run off the bandits. I hear **someone** gave them what they deserved. Wasn’t you, was it?”

“Yes, that was us,” Ash nods.

“It was? More will probably come but it’s good to know there’s some justice left here. Thank you.”

“Let’s check out the tavern,” Ash says to the rest of our group.

“I’ll stay out here. I need to talk to this young woman anyway. There’s a Sister named Leliana inside, she’ll want to come with us. She’s trustworthy and we can definitely use her skills.”

“As you say, Charlotte,” Ash nods. 

“Call me Charlie,” I frown. 

“Charlie it is,” she smiles. 

They enter the tavern and I turn back to Hawke.

“What’s your name?”

“Marian Hawke,” she answers casually. 

“When Carver gets back you need to flee to Kirkwall as fast as you can. Keep your siblings close, don’t let them run off on their own. You’ll meet a templar and his wife, Ser Wesley and Aveline Vallen. You can trust Aveline. You will meet an old woman along the way who will save you from a tight spot. Accept her deal. If all goes the way it should, you’ll make it to Kirkwall. I’ll see you there in a year or so,” I finish with a grin. 

She stares at me, wide-eyed. 

“Who are you?”

“Charlotte Cast, I’m a Seeress. Malcom Hawke would rest easy if he knew his family got out alright,” I place my hand on her shoulder. 

“You’re from Rivaine?” 

“Not exactly. That doesn’t matter, what’s important is that you listen to me. Bethany will die if you don’t hold her back. I want to be able to meet both of your siblings, so keep them safe. Leandra will thank you for it.”

“This is crazy,” Marian shakes her head in disbelief. 

“I know you’re a mage, Hawke,” I whisper and she looks around in alarm, checking if anyone heard. “You need to trust me here.”

“I… suppose,” she ruffles her hair nervously. “I’ll take your advice under consideration.”

“That’ll have to be good enough,” I sigh, clasping my hands together anxiously. 

“I should go, I’ve been away from the house long enough.”

With that, she backs away a few steps then turns to hurry away. A few soldiers come running out of the tavern, looking quite battered. I take that as my cue to enter and step inside. I finally lay eyes on Leliana as the door closes behind me and I’m taken aback. She’s pretty, yes, but her body language screams grace and danger. Her lips are full, her red hair a few shades lighter than Ash’s, cut to chin length with her cute little side braid. Her blue eyes are soft, full of kindness, and I’m saddened by the thought that Justinia will harden her. I hurry up to where she’s speaking with Ash. 

“…you will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do? I know after what happened, you need all the help you can get. That’s why I’m coming along.”

“That’s a bit forward, isn’t it, Sister Leliana?” I ask, standing next to Ash. 

“The Maker told me to join you,” she says casually, as if such a thing were as normal as grass growing. 

“Right, I believe this is the part where I back away slowly,” Ash says slowly, about to actually take a step back. 

“More crazy?” Alistair mutters. “I thought we were all full up.”

“She exaggerates,” I sigh. “She had a dream about the Blight and believes it was sent to her by the Maker.”

“How do you know such a thing?” Leliana raises her eyebrows at me.

“I just do,” I say dismissively. 

“I know what I believe,” she says firmly, almost defensively, “and no one can convince me otherwise. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker’s work. Let me help.”

“We’ll need her, Ash. She has skills that will help us through this, and she can help with my training if need be,” I insist. 

“Alright, I guess,” Ash sighs, pinching her nose. 

“Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than mother thought,” Morrigan sneers. 

“Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I **will not** let you down,” Leliana smiles. “I will collect my things from the Chantry, and meet you in the refugee camp in the morning.”

“We should set up our tents there and rest for the night,” Ash says as the bard leaves. “It’s getting dark and we should take advantage of having other people around to warn us of anything dangerous.”

“That’s a good idea,” I nod. “Let’s go then.”

We leave the tavern and walk out the village gates to the refugee camp, then find a spot to set ourselves up for the night. Morrigan insists on a tent to herself, so Alistair has his own tent as well, while I share a third with Ash. Nelaros settles himself just outside our tent, apparently wanting to keep watch for his mistress. I settle onto my bedroll, trying not to move too much so I don’t bother Ash, but I can’t get comfortable. 

It reminds me of an old camping trip with my family, but this is not a trip into the mountains to explore woods, to make smores and hotdogs. I take slow deep breaths to keep myself from crying. The reality of my situation falls on my shoulders in earnest and I realize I’ll never see them again. It seems to take hours for me to fall asleep but I eventually get comfortable and slip out of consciousness. 

I sit up in a foggy patch of grass. Everything around me is muted in color and sound. I look around in confusion as I stand. Turning slowly on the spot, I find a familiar figure standing behind me. It’s Wisdom, Solas’s friend! It says something in elven but I can’t understand it. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I frown. 

It simply smiles and steps forward to stand in front of me. It holds two fingers to its lips, then touches them to my forehead. I feel a shockwave run through my body and I step back, eyes wide. 

“ _Now you understand me,_ ” it says with a smile. 

“ _What did you do?_ ” I ask, then gasp as I realize I’m speaking elven. 

“ _Language is a powerful thing,_ ” it answers simply. “ _You will need all the help you can get if you are to accomplish your goal.”_

_“Do you know why I’m here?”_

_“I know you were chosen by the Bride to guide the world into its ideal state.”_

_“The Bride? You mean Andraste? Does that mean the Maker is real?”_

It says nothing, still smiling serenely as my mind races.

“ _Why me? I’m not designed to handle the violence of Thedas,”_ I demand.

“ _You have the knowledge and compassion to make a difference. You cannot accomplish your task alone, so you will have help.”_

 _“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop Solas,”_ I lament, and it frowns thoughtfully. 

“ _Solas still sleeps, worry about the present for now. I have another gift to bestow before you wake.”_

Again, it touches two fingers to its lips then to my forehead. Another shockwave runs through my body and my mind is nearly overwhelmed. All the knowledge of Thedas I ever read or experienced is seared into my mind. I think of Cullen and am flooded with information about his family - Mia, Branson, Rosalie - and his role in the years to come. I step back again and grip the sides of my head like it’s about to explode.

“ _What did you do to me?”_

_“Your memory will be your greatest weapon. The next time we meet, I will show you more.”_

With the sensation of rising to the surface of a pool, I wake up startled and look around. It’s still dark outside, and Ash is sound asleep. Nelaros barks at me softly and I hush him. I change into my new clothes and armor, then look over my dress. It’s stained with blood, both human and darkspawn, and thus unsalvageable. I fold it up and put it in my pack anyway, then climb out of the tent. 

I pace back and forth, thinking. I can remember the events of the Stolen Throne, as if turning the pages of the book itself in my mind. I know Loghain’s hatred of Orlesians is understandable, but it’s festered inside him for so long that it’s turned into paranoia. It’s one of the reasons he left Cailan to die. I glance at Alistair’s tent. Should I tell him about his mother? No, I don’t know how to harden him without taking him to see Goldanna. I need him hardened so he can marry Anora and have Loghain become a Warden. Hopefully. 

I sit down. Wisdom gave me two gifts. A powerful memory, which will be a blessing for the years ahead. And language. But is it just elven or do I know other languages too? I should test that. Start with Orlesian. 

“ _My name is Charlie._ ”

That sounded French, so I suppose that’s Orlesian? What about Antivan?

“ _My name is Charlie._ ”

Italian? I think for a moment. Tevene?

“ _My name is Charlie._ ”

I can’t identify that one. Maybe Qunlat will be like that. 

“ _My name is Charlie._ ”

I ruffle my hair anxiously, then let it fall in my face. So I can speak the different languages of Thedas. What do I do with that? A lot. I can talk to Sten, the future Arishok, and the Iron Bull. I can talk to Zathrian, Merrill, Solas. Fenris speaks Tevene, I’m sure. Orlesian will come in handy at the Winter Palace. Private saucy conversations with Zevran? That gets me to smile. 

Wisdom said I was chosen by the Bride. There can be no mistake that it meant Andraste. Which can only lead one to the assumption that the Maker exists, which was always a matter of pure belief, not fact. Do I believe it? I was never really one for religion but I believed in a higher power. Wisdom would have no reason to lie to me. Would it?

It becomes a matter of faith at this point. Do I want to believe I’m here for a reason? I decide I do. I was chosen by something or someone. A higher power. But who would believe it? No one. I should keep it to myself, for fear of being hanged for blasphemy. But I’m surprised at my sudden belief in the Maker. Or at least in Andraste. 

I need a hug, I realize with a quiet laugh. This may all be too much for me. I’m only one person, how can I hope to influence so much? This is what the protagonists must feel like, I realize. The Hero of Ferelden, the Champion of Kirkwall, the Inquisitor. But it’s so much more. I’ll have to play advisor to all three. 

I pull my legs to my chest and let out a quiet sob. How many times had I wished to live in Thedas? To be my own character in the games, if not take the place of a protagonist. Well here I am. I still can’t believe how I died so suddenly. I rub a hand over my throat. I was minding my business and got fucked over. 

Nelaros huffs and pads over to me, nuzzling my arm until I wrap it around him. I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes. I’m tired but I know I won’t be able to sleep again tonight. I scratch Nel behind his ears and he gives a pleased groan. My dress is the only thing from my world that I have. I will not part with it for anything. 

I decide that I’ll claim to be from another country, I’ve already said that I’m from a place far away from Thedas. No one will understand let alone believe me if I say I’m from another world, or if I try to explain how I really know everything about the people of Thedas. With sleep so far from my grasp, I have no choice to wait for the others to wake up. 

—

“ _Struggle is an illusion. The tide rises, the tide falls, but the sea is changeless. There is nothing to struggle against. Victory is in the Qun._ ” 

Sten is more than half a foot taller than Alistair, and his lined face is set in a permanent frown. He’s built like a pro wrestler, like Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson. Anyone could see that even under his armor, which he surprisingly still has on. His purple eyes are lifeless and hollow. 

“ _Be at peace, Sten,_ ” I call to him softly in Qunlat, and his head snaps to look at me, along with everyone else’s. “ _We come to bring your atonement._ ”

“You aren’t one of my captors,” he says to me in an empty voice. “I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace.”

“What are you?” Ash asks in amazement. 

“A prisoner,” Sten sighs. 

“He is a Sten of the Berasaad, the vanguard of the Qunari,” I inform her. 

“I am in a cage, am I not? I have been placed here by the Chantry.”

“The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family, even the children,” Leliana says in a hushed voice. 

“It is as she says,” Sten says flatly. 

“I’ve heard Qunari called ‘warmongers of the north’,” Ash says quietly, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“We are called a lot of things, what is your point? It matters little now. I will die soon enough.”

“This is a proud and powerful creature, trapped as prey for the darkspawn,” Morrigan muses. “If you cannot find a use for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy’s sake alone.”

“Mercy?” Alistair scoffs. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I would also suggest Alistair take his place in the cage,” she smirks. 

“Yes, **that’s** what I would’ve expected. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us?”

“You’re not going to leave him here, are you?” Leliana murmurs. “To die like an animal? This is too cruel a punishment, even for a murderer!”

“I suggest you leave me to my fate,” Sten says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Who did you murder?” Ash questions the Qunari. 

“The people of a farmhold, eight humans, in addition to the children,” he answers evenly, and I cringe. 

“That’s horrible!” 

“I agree,” Sten says with the slightest frown. 

“Are you guilty?”

“Are you asking if I feel guilt or if I am responsible for the deed? However I feel, whatever I’ve done, my life is forfeit now.”

“If you feel guilty then why did you do it?”

“Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life to know nothing of regret.”

“I imagine capturing you was difficult.”

“There is no difficulty in capturing prey that surrenders.”

“You didn’t resist?”

“I waited for several days until the knights arrived.”

“Why?”

“Because I wished to.”

“How long have you been in this cage?”

“Twenty days now,” he says uncertainly. “I shouldn’t last much longer. Another week at most.”

“What do you think, Charlie?” Ash asks, giving me a curious look. 

“Everything he’s said is true, and he truly wishes to atone. The Revered Mother may be willing to release him into your custody,” I answer, watching Sten carefully. “You would be able to find your atonement fighting the darkspawn alongside the Grey Wardens, Sten.”

“You are Grey Wardens?” He says, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“Yes.”

“Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens’ strength and skill. Though I suppose not every legend is true,” he sighs, and the Wardens bristle. 

I raise a hand to stop them as they open their mouths, and Ash shakes her head as Alistair glares at the Qunari. 

“We will speak with the Revered Mother on your behalf, Sten,” I tell him evenly. “I trust you will wait patiently for our return.” 

“I will,” he confirms and closes his eyes to resume chanting the Qun under his breath. 

“Come on,” I gesture for the others to follow. 

We gather information on a few jobs outside the village at the Chanter’s board, then enter the Chantry. As the Wardens approach Ser Donall, I hang back to let them confirm what I’ve already told them. He informs them that the Arl is indeed sick and that the Arlessa has sent him and the other knights to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes. They give him Ser Henric’s locket and bid him good fortune before he departs. 

“So what you said about the Arl was right,” Ash sighs, rubbing her forehead in thought. 

“The Urn is the only way to save him, but he will be stable until we can get the mages to Redcliffe,” I reply, crossing my arms. 

“Let’s go talk to the Revered Mother.”

We follow Ash further into the Chantry, to the Mother’s office. She looks the same as in the game, but in the Chantry Mother’s uniform from Inquisition. Some things are bound to be different.

“Good day, Sister Leliana,” she says with a smile as we approach. “I’m surprised to see you’re still in Lothering.”

“It is good to see you as well, your Reverence,” Leliana smiles back.

“I do not recognize your companion. Greetings. Will you be making a donation to the Chantry? Our need has never been greater.”

I glance at Ash from behind her. Does she believe in the Maker? Is she even religious?

“What tithe is acceptable?” The elf asks. 

“Might I suggest thirty silver?”

“Thirty silver it is,” Ash nods, digging in her pocket to hand over the coin. 

“Thank you dear woman.” The priestess accepts the donation gratefully, placing it in a bag in her desk drawer. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Sten, the Qunari you imprisoned.”

She sighs, and crosses her arms. 

“It might’ve been kinder to execute him, but I leave his fate to the Maker. Why does he interest you?”

“Is there any way I could convince you to release him?”

“Then his next victims may count you and me as their murderers,” the priestess frowns. 

“I was thinking you might release him into my custody, actually.”

“And what do you say on this, Leliana? You know your friend better than I.”

“These are…” Leliana says hesitantly, “unusual times, your Reverence. With us, the Qunari might do some good. I’m sure of it, in fact.”

“Were things not so desperate… alright, I trust you.” The Revered Mother turns and shuffles through another drawer to unearth a key, which she gives to Ash. “Take the key to his cage, and Maker watch over you.”

“Thank you, your Reverence,” Leliana smiles. “Your trust is not misplaced.”

The others move to leave but I hang back, which Alistair notices. 

“Is something wrong, Charlie?” He asks, bringing them all to a halt. 

“I just want to speak privately with the Revered Mother,” I say casually. “I’ll meet you at Sten’s cage.”

“Alright then,” Ash says, studying me curiously for a moment before leading the way out of the Chantry.

“What can I do for you?” The priestess asks kindly. 

“I was actually hoping to receive your blessing, your Reverence,” I say awkwardly. “I’m not used to asking such a thing.”

“Of course, child.”

I kneel on the floor as she holds a hand over my head, and I clasp my hands together in prayer. 

“In Andraste’s name, I call upon the Maker to watch over his child and creation. Watch over her path, O Maker. Give her light in darkness. So let it be.”

“So let it be,” I echo as I rise to my feet. “Thank you, Mother.”

“It is my honor,” she smiles. “Now, if there is nothing else?”

“No, thank you. I should catch up to my companions.”

“Farewell to you then, my daughter.”

I leave the Chantry feeling better than I did last night.


	3. Chapter 3

“Again!” 

It’s a careful dance with Ash and Leliana, the bard drawing on my experience as a gymnast, the elf playing on my fear mercilessly. Sten and Alistair watch from beside the fire while Morrigan begrudgingly cooks our dinner. 

“Move your feet, Charlie!” Alistair calls. 

I skip backwards, defending with my blades as Ash bares down on me. I roll to the side as she swipes at my head. 

“Are you trying to kill me?!” I shout at her. 

“Do you want to die?” She counters, rolling her shoulders. “We don’t have time to be gentle with you, don’t you understand that?”

I huff and shake myself, glancing at Leliana who sighs. I go on the offensive, swiping and lunging at Ash as she blocks everything. She catches my blade in hers, sliding it down to cut my fingers and I flinch away, dropping it. She seizes the opportunity and holds her dagger to my neck, and I stop with a sigh. 

“You’re being too hard on her,” Leliana speaks up as she steps between us. “And impatient.”

“No, she’s right,” I sigh, looking over the cut across my fingers. “We don’t have time for you to go easy on me.”

“We should start on your footwork,” the bard says delicately as Ash sits next to Alistair with a huff. “Sheath your weapons and prepare to dance.”

It starts as dodging punches and jabs, ducking and rolling away. This part I’m good at. As I duck, Leliana shifts her stance and punches right at my face but I raise my hand to block, then grab her wrist to shove her aside, sweeping her feet with my legs. She stumbles but rolls easily back to a standing position. 

“Good,” she grins, raising her fists again as I raise my own defensively. 

We circle each other slowly, then she leaps forward, jabbing at the side of my head but I step away. She feints to my left and I take the bait, opening up my right as I move to block. She kicks me in the ribs, then her fist connects hard with the side of my head, dazing me and I stumble to the ground. 

“Steady there, Charlie,” Leliana says, helping me to sit up as I rub my head. 

“You got me good,” I chuckle. 

“You took the bait,” she scolds. “You mustn’t trust your enemy’s every move. We’ll stop here for tonight.”

Ash sighs and shakes her head, turning away to serve herself some food. 

“You’re doing well for a beginner,” Alistair says encouragingly. “You’re surprisingly quick for a civilian. You just need to practice.”

“Thanks, Alistair,” I grin, but it doesn’t last. 

Today is the first day of my training and having it start with a hiccup isn’t promising. Leliana assures me that I’ll get the hang of it quickly but Ash is impatient. The thought worries me to no end. If she ends up disliking me, what’s to stop her from sending me away? I always wound up sending Morrigan away cause one, I never used her and two, I hate her. Yeah yeah, I know she’s a popular character and all but I could never stand her. 

The next night when we make camp, Bodhan and his son approach us and we share our fire with the dwarves. My hand-to-hand training with Leliana continues. Again, Morrigan cooks while the warriors watch, giving pointers. Ash barters with Bodhan for a map of Ferelden. As we all settle down for dinner, Ash fills us in on her plan, spreading the map on the ground. 

“On Charlie’s advice, we’ll start at the Circle of Magi, then move on to Redcliffe.” She points to the castle on the map, tracing a route on the paper as she speaks. “We’ll gather information there on the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and decide what’s to be done about it when we get there. After that we will go to Orzammar and get the dwarves’ word for assistance. I’m leaving the Dalish for last because they will take the most time to find,” she finishes with a weary sigh. 

“We have quite a journey ahead of us,” Leliana comments softly. 

“We’ll be fine if we’re careful,” Alistair says confidently.

A thought pops into my head and my heart plummets.

“Wardens, I need to speak to you both privately,” I say seriously, giving them both a hard look. 

Ash nods and nudges Alistair as the three of us stand. I walk a distance away from the fire to be out of earshot as the others clean up dinner. I turn to face the two Wardens with a frown. 

“What is it?” Ash asks seriously. 

“You need to know how to kill the Archdemon,” I start. 

“Don’t we just chop it’s head off or something?” Alistair says sarcastically. 

“Well yes, but actually no,” I say with a humorless laugh. “An Archdemon is a corrupted Old God, so when it is killed, it’s soul passes to the nearest darkspawn and is reborn. It’s all but immortal like this.”

“So how do we kill it?” Ash asks urgently, slightly alarmed. 

“Grey Wardens hold the taint, so when the Archdemon is slain by one, it’s soul enters the Grey Warden instead.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Alistair says quietly, and I shake my head. 

“The body cannot contain two souls at once so the Old God soul and the soul of the Warden are destroyed.”

“So whoever kills the Archdemon… dies?” 

“I’m afraid so,” I answer grimly. 

“How do we know you’re right?” Ash asks suddenly. “How do we know it’s true?”

“Why do you think Grey Wardens were necessary in the first place? Did you think just anyone could kill the Archdemon?”

They both fall silent, looking at each other grimly.

“You’ll meet an Orlesian Warden eventually named Riordan, he’ll tell you exactly what I just did,” I continue softly. “I’m sorry, but you need to know this before the end.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Ash says quietly, then turns and walks over to her tent, closing the flap behind her. 

The next morning, we part ways from the dwarves and continue towards the tower. The further we go, the more the rogues push me in my training, moving me back to daggers even if I don’t feel ready. But my skills as a gymnast made my evasive training go by in a flash. We travel another week and a half before we reach Calenhad docks and it’s as we’re about to enter the Spoiled Princess that a vision overtakes me. 

We all enter the Circle, Morrigan tries to convince Ash to fulfil the Rite of Annulment, resulting in a fight that kills Wynne. 

I return to the present on the floor of the inn, surrounded by the others as blood drips down my face. 

“Andraste’s mercy!” Leliana gasps, a hand over her mouth as she stares at me. 

“She is bas saarebas,” Sten growls.

“ _I am not dangerous, Sten, merely troubled,_ ” I say shakily in qunlat. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“What did you see this time, Charlie?” Ash asks urgently, crouched in front of me. 

“The Circle has fallen to blood mages, but we can save the rest of them by clearing out the demons that have been set loose in the tower. We will meet a senior enchanter named Wynne, you met her at Ostagar. She will help you clear the tower.” I pause and look at Morrigan. “Don’t take Morrigan, leave her here at the docks.” She bristles and I continue quickly. “The templars will know an apostate when they see one. It’ll be safer to leave her here.”

Nel worms his way through people to lick my face and I push him away. 

“Nel, stop that,” Ash shoos him scoldingly before turning back to me. “Very well. We’ll rest here tonight and head into the tower in the morning.”

Ash arranges for us all to have rooms. Alistair and Sten share a room while I share with Morrigan, and Ash shares with Leliana and Nelaros. I’m not happy about sharing a room with Morrigan, and neither is she. I catch Sten before we all retire. 

“ _Back, thing,_ ” he growls in qunlat, and I flinch. “ _Do not approach me.”_

_“Your men were attacked here, by the lake. This is where you lost Asala, isn’t it?”_

_“That you know this is proof of your dangerous magic.”_

_“Tell the Warden. We can search for it, reclaim it so you can return to your people.”_

_“Enough! I will speak no more of this.”_

With a glare, he turns and leaves to his room. I sigh and walk over to the front room, sitting at a corner table. I run my hands through my hair, then pick at my nails as I think. No one seems to trust me so far. Leliana is friendly enough, as is Alistair, but I wouldn’t say they trust me. Ash believes my visions, does that equal trust? I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice Leliana’s approach until she drops into the seat across from me. 

“Leliana, you startled me,” I say with a crooked smile. 

“I apologize, that was not my intent,” she muses. “I merely wish to see if you are well. Witnessing your… vision was concerning.”

“I’m alright, thank you. I admit I’m not used to it myself and it was shocking the first time it happened. I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you about your own vision.” 

“Asharis has already spoken to me about it,” she says evenly, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I’m sure she has. I just want to say I believe in you, and in your vision. I hope that you’ll consider me a friend, Leliana. I need one myself,” I chuckle sadly. 

She smiles and rests a hand over mine. 

“You asked for the Mother’s blessing in Lothering, did you not? You are Andrastian?”

“I suppose I am,” I admit with a nod. 

“Then may the Maker watch over us both, and guide us on this uneasy path before us.”

“ _In the long hours of the night, When hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know, Your Light remains._ ” I murmur in Orlesian.

“ _Though all before me is shadow, Yet shall the Maker be my guide,_ ” she replies, still smiling. “I am glad to have another of the faithful with us on this journey.”

“I have to say, I’ve been feeling so alone ever since I joined the Wardens,” I confess with a sniff, my eyes pricking with tears. “I don’t know how I started having these visions but I know I’ve been set on this path for a reason. Just as you have, Leliana. I know it in my heart.”

“You do not know the joy it brings me to hear that from someone else. I trust you, I hope you know that.”

I laugh in relief, wiping my eyes. We talk about my training for a short while, then retire to our rooms. Knowing **someone** trusts me is such a weight off my shoulders. Morrigan is already in bed when I enter our room, so I shed my armor as quietly as I can and climb into bed. 

I sit up in that muted patch of grass where I first met Wisdom and I scramble to my feet. I look around and find it behind me again, this time with another spirit. It takes the form of a man clad in heavy armor, a warrior. 

“ _I am Valor_ ,” it says in elven, bowing to me ever so slightly, and I realize this is Valor from the mage origin. “ _Wisdom told me you have need of my assistance.”_

 _“I would be honored to accept your help, spirit, and most grateful,_ ” I answer with a smile, though I’m not sure what comes next. 

Valor circles me, a thoughtful look on its face from under its helmet. It touches me on various muscles, my calves, my thighs, my arms, my shoulder blades. Each touch brings a feeling of strength in my body, a blooming warmth that gives me courage. 

“ _As you know, there is a demon of Sloth awaiting you in the tower,”_ says Wisdom. “ _Do not allow it to shake your confidence.”_

 _“I won’t,”_ I promise. 

_”Good. Now you must wake.”_

In the morning, Ash decides that Sten and Nelaros will stay behind with Morrigan and takes Alistair, Leliana and me with her into the tower. 

“Go into every fight like it’s your last, because it could be,” Ash says to me harshly as we board the ferry. “Whatever information you might have, we’ll need it in there. Alistair will keep an eye on you but try not to need him.”

I just nod, tightening my belt. Leliana is sitting beside me, counting arrows and I put my hand on her shoulder. She looks up at me and gives me a reassuring smile, which I return. There is a thin layer of fog laying on the water, swirling irily as we pass. The bard straps her quiver and bow to her back as our little ferry docks at the island the tower is built on. 

Mild chaos. That’s how I would describe the scene laid before us in the entry chamber. I can see Greagoir issuing orders to his templars as we approach. 

“...and I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times. Do not open the doors without my express consent. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The doors are barred, are they keeping people out or in?” Alistair mutters. 

“Now we wait and pray,” the Knight-Commander sighs, then turns to us with an annoyed expression. 

“You’re Knight-Commander Greagoir, I assume?” Ash asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Who are you? I explicitly told Carroll not to bring anyone across the lake. We are dealing with a very delicate situation. You must leave, for your own safety.”

“No,” Ash says, with more authority than I would have expected her to carry so quickly. “The mages have an obligation to the Grey Wardens.”

“I am weary of the Grey Wardens’ ceaseless need for men to fight the darkspawn,” he sighs, “but it is their right. You’ll find no allies here. The templars can spare no more men, and the mages are… indisposed. I shall speak plainly: the tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower’s halls.”

All three of my companions give me a sidelong look and I keep my face neutral. The more I prove the validity of my knowledge and visions, the more they’ll trust me. At least that’s the hope. 

“How did this happen?” Ash asks seriously, crossing her arms. 

“We don’t know,” Greagoir answers defensively. “We saw only demons, hunting templars and mages alike. I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flee.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, thinking for a moment. 

“What can I do to help?”

“I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment.”

“What good will that do?”

“The mages are probably already dead,” Alistair speaks up reluctantly. “Any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Alistair,” I snap at him and he gives me a surprised look. 

“The situation is dire. There is no alternative - everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again,” Greagoir continues before Alistair can respond. 

“Mages are not defenseless,” Ash says urgently. “Some must still live!”

“If any are still alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them.”

“Is that so hard to believe?” I mutter under my breath. 

“No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to look for survivors and find… nothing.”

“But it was you who shut them all in!” Ash nearly shouts. 

“And what was I to do?” Greagoir snarls back. “Leave the door open as the abominations poured out?”

“He… he’s right,” Alistair speaks up again and I resist the urge to smack him upside the head. “All the Circles have doors like these, to prevent abominations from… getting loose.”

“Denerim must have received our message,” the Knight-Commander sighs, “it cannot be much longer.”

“If I help you deal with the Circle, will you lend me aid?” Ash asks, eyes narrowed. 

“If, by some miracle, you destroy the abominations, yes - the templars will join your army,” he promises. “Without word from Denerim, I must determine our course. Surely destroying darkspawn is a worthy goal.”

“We have an agreement then,” she sighs. 

“A word of caution… once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe. I will only believe it is over is the First Enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen… then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed. May Andraste lend you her courage, whatever you decide.”

“We’ll save Irving, Knight-Commander,” I say fiercely. “Be ready to open those doors when we return.”

He frowns at me doubtfully but orders for us to be let through. Our way through the apprentice quarters is quiet and uneventful. Ash has us spread out in this chamber to search under beds and in closets and chests for anything useful or for any sign of survivors. Leliana stows a padlock in her pack, giving me a wink. 

“For you to practice later,” she says. 

We regroup and move on to find Wynne and several other apprentices and a crowd of children in front of a barrier. A rage demon approaches and the senior enchanter casts a frost spell on it, quickly ending it’s existence. She turns to us as we walk closer and her eyes widen in surprise. 

Wynne’s face has soft lines to give away her age, her grey hair tied back in a short ponytail. She seems roughly in her mid fifties to early sixties but she moves like a twenty year old. She stands at least as tall as Leliana, if not taller. 

“It’s you!” She says, then narrows her eyes suspiciously. “No… come no further. Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!”

“Easy, Wynne,” I say, holding up my hands defensively. “We’re here to help.”

“You have children with you?” Ash says, concerned. 

Said children are all huddled together in a corner, protected behind several teenage apprentices. 

“The tower is a place of learning, young apprentices are always here. Why is that surprising?” She shakes her head and frowns. “But this is no time to discuss that. Why are you here? Why did the templars let you in?”

“I’m helping Greagoir resolve the Circle’s difficulties,” Ash answers with a sigh. 

“Then you do serve the templars as I feared. Do they have the Right of Annulment?”

“No, but Greagoir expects it to arrive soon.”

“So he thinks the Circle is beyond hope,” Wynne sighs. “He probably assumes we are all dead. They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived. If they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them.”

“What happened here?” Ash asks calmly. “The Knight-Commander didn’t seem know.”

“Let it suffice to say that we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred. When he returned from the battle at Ostagar, he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn’t work out as he had planned. I don’t know what became of Uldred, but I am certain all this is his doing. I will not lose the Circle to one man’s pride and stupidity.”

“Sounds like you have a plan. What do you intend to do?”

“I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children. You will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save this Circle.”

“We must try to avoid needless slaughter,” Ash nods in agreement, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Yes. Even if we cannot eliminate all the demons and abominations, together, we could lead the survivors out. Once Greagoir sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable.”

“Greagoir will only accept it if the First Enchanter says it is so.”

“Then our path is laid before us. We must save Irving.”

“Will the children be safe here?”

“Petra and Kinnon will watch them. If we slay all the fiends we encounter on our way, none will get by to threaten the children.”

“Very well, if you think that is best.”

Wynne turns to the teenagers. 

“Petra, Kinnon, look after the others, I will be back soon.”

“Wynne, are you sure you’re alright? You were so badly hurt earlier,” the girl named Petra speaks up worriedly. “Maybe I should come along?”

“The others need your protection more. I will be alright. Stay here with them. Keep them safe and calm.”

“Have faith, we will not fail,” I speak up from behind Ash. 

“Your confidence is refreshing,” Wynne smiles softly, “though you should make sure it does not blind you to your weaknesses. If you are ready, let us go end this.”

We follow her over to the barrier and she hesitates with a tired sigh. 

“Here we are,” she mutters. “I am somewhat amazed at myself for having kept it in place this long.”

“You did what you had to do,” Ash says encouragingly. 

“It made me very weary at times, but I had to stay strong, to keep us safe. Be prepared for anything. I do not know what manner of beasts lurk beyond this barrier. Are you ready?”

Ash looks back at the three of us and we all nod. 

“We are ready. Remove the barrier.”

“Alright. Be on your guard.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Rhys is doing fine,” I tell Wynne quietly, and she raises her brow in surprise. “He’s at the White Spire.”

“How do you know this?”

“My name is Charlotte Cast, I’m a Seeress,” I formally introduce myself. “Call me Charlie.”

“You’re from Rivaine?” 

“No,” I sigh. “Though I understand why you would assume that. I have a broad knowledge about the future, with some specifics.”

“Everything I’ve heard of Seers implies that they are all smoke and mirrors,” the senior enchanter says doubtfully. 

“You’re being kept alive by a spirit of Faith,” I whisper, so only she can hear. “It came to you not long before we arrived and you would have died if it hadn’t chosen you.”

She stares at me in disbelief, stunned into silence. The healer is spared from coming up with a reply by an assault from a group of abominations in the library. 

I stay close to Alistair, watching his back as he throws himself into the fight. He slashes through the creatures with practiced ease while I barely keep up. It’s a good thing I have armor on when a rage demon slashes at my chest. I slash at its neck and kick it away, ichor spilling onto the floor. I feel a splatter of wetness hit the back of my neck and turn to see Alistair running his sword through a shade, presumably about to strike me. 

I nod at him in thanks and we continue the fight, Wynne and Leliana supporting the three of us from afar. When we reach the next level, I recognize the stockroom and hurry forward to find Owain. 

“Please, refrain from going into the stockroom. It is a mess and I have not been able to get it in a state fit to be seen,” the Tranquil says in his creepy monotone voice. 

“Owain, where is Nial?” I ask urgently. 

“He went to find the Litany.”

“Who is this man?” Ash asks, addressing me more than him. 

“I am called Owain and I manage the Circle’s magical stockroom. I was trying to tidy up, but there was little I could do.”

“Why are you cleaning at a time like this?” Ash is flabbergasted. 

“The stockroom is my responsibility. I must keep it clean. I tried to leave when things got quiet. That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to work.”

“Owain, you should’ve said something!” Wynne says exasperatedly. “I would’ve opened the door for you.”

“The stockroom is familiar. I prefer to be here.”

“How can you be so calm?” Ash wonders skeptically. 

“He is Tranquil, they don’t have emotions,” I answer bitterly. 

“I would prefer not to die,” Owain continues as if neither of us spoke. “I would prefer it if the tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps Nial will succeed and save us all.”

“How long ago did he leave?” I ask urgently. 

“Hours ago.”

“Who is Nial?”

“One of the Circle mages,” I answer impatiently. “He came here for the Litany of Adralla to work against the blood mages.”

“Blood mages?” Wynne muses. “Nial was in the meeting. He would know. Blood magic… I was afraid of this.”

“Now what?” Ash groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“We find Nial and get the Litany. It’ll give us a chance against the blood mages,” I answer quickly. 

“I wish you luck,” Owain drones. “Perhaps this will be over soon and things will return to the way they were. Goodbye.”

—

“Please, please don’t kill me!”

“Tell me why I should spare your life,” Ash sneers. 

“I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn’t mean for this death and destruction. We were just trying to free ourselves,” sobs the blood mage. “Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry. You don’t know what it was like. The templars were watching, always watching…”

“But why turn to forbidden magic?” 

“The magic was a means to an end. It gave us… it gave me the power to fight for what I believed.”

“Fighting for what you believe is commendable, but the ends do not always justify the means,” Wynne says wearily. 

“You don’t really believe that, do you Wynne?” The blood mage gives a frustrated look. “Andraste waged war on the Imperium, she didn’t write them a strongly worded letter. She reshaped civilization, freed the slaves, gave us the Chantry. But people died for it… We thought someone has to take the first step, force a change, no matter the cost.”

“Nothing is worth what you’ve done to this place,” Wynne scowls. 

“And now Uldred’s gone mad, and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs…”

“You know we cannot allow blood mages to live,” Ash sighs.

“But I…” the blood mage gives her a pleading look. “I would like a chance to atone for what I’ve done. Please, if you spare me I… I could escape and seek penance at the Chantry.”

“You know they’ll never take you,” Alistair drawls. “They’re very picky about who they let in. Harlots, murderers, _yes_. Maleficarum, _oh no_...” 

“Your comments betray your ignorance, Alistair,” Leliana says fiercely. “The Chantry accepts all, regardless of what they’ve done.”

“Well, it seems you’re familiar with a whole other Chantry, because the one I know wouldn’t hesitate to shove a sword of mercy right through her heart.”

“I feel inclined to agree with Alistair,” Ash says quietly.

I put a hand on Leliana’s shoulder as she opens her mouth to protest, shaking my head. It’s not worth the argument.

“I just want my life, please,” the blood mage begs.

“Your death will be your penance,” Ash says grimly, stepping close to the blood mage, who crawls backwards into the wall.

“No! No, please!”

I look away.

\---

“Charlie, wake up,” comes John’s voice from beside me.

I sit up in my bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Suddenly it hits me that John is here. I look up at him and he’s glaring down his nose at me. Fear, cold and piercing, shoots through me and I scramble across the bed to get away from him. His beetle-black eyes are full of fury and violence. His coal black hair and beard are wild and scraggly, just as they were the last time I saw him. This mountain of a man who haunts my nightmares. Blood is on his hands, I taste it in my mouth and it’s on my hand when I touch my lip. 

“Not again, John,” I beg. “I’ll do what you want, just don’t hurt me again.”

“You slept with Brandon,” he says accusingly and he climbs over the bed to get to me. “My best friend!”

“I swear I didn’t!”

“You think I’m stupid?!” He roars, snatching a fistful of my hair even as I cringe away from him. “I saw you leaving his house last night!”

“We were planning a party for your birthday!” I sob, and he punches me in the gut, knocking the breath out of me. 

“You’re a whore **and** a liar.”

He punches me in the face, letting me fall back on the bed. I clutch my face, gasping for air as I hear the click of a switchblade. He pins me down with a knee on my chest, holding out my right arm by the wrist. With his free hand, he digs the knife into my arm and I scream bloody murder as he carves my flesh. 

“Charlie!”

I take a big gulp of air as he’s knocked off me and I cradle my bleeding arm to my chest. Asharis is standing over me, daggers pointed at John. 

“What? Ash?” I ask, breathless and confused. 

“It’s a nightmare, Charlie, don’t believe it!”

“He’s my living nightmare,” I whimper, inching away from him on my back. 

“She’s mine!” He shouts, spit flying from his mouth. “I’d see her dead before you take her from me!”

Ash launches herself at him, her dagger stabbing deep into his chest. He lets out a demonic shriek as his shape blurs and he shifts into a Despair demon. She manages to pin it to one spot and decapitate it. 

“It wasn’t real, Charlie, you’re safe now,” she reassures me as she offers me her hand. 

“It was real to me,” I sigh, taking it. 

She pulls me to my feet. I stumble as a gray fog surrounds me and for a wild moment I wonder what’s wrong with me until I remember this is what happens. I disappear.

\---

“Cullen!” I gasp.

Bodies of templars are strewn about the room, shredded and burned. Cullen, my poor Cullen, is trapped in a transparent barrier, on his knees. His armor lays in pieces around him, his torso and arms bleeding from cuts and burns. My body moves before I can think and I try to reach through the barrier to touch him but a shock runs up my arm when my hand touches the barrier, pushing me back. His curly hair is cut short, and his brown eyes are full of pain and fury.

“This trick again?” Cullen groans. “I know what you are, it won’t work! I will stay strong!”

“Are you alright?” Ash asks, alarmed.

“Does he look alright?” I can’t help but snap at her and she gives me a shocked look.

“The boy is exhausted,” Wynne says, full of concern. “And this cage, I’ve never seen anything like it.” The senior enchanter turns to address Cullen. “Rest easy, help is here.”

“Ugh, enough visions!” Cullen shouts. “If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game!”

“We’re not going to kill you, Cullen!”

“He’s delirious,” Leliana says sympathetically. “He’s been tortured and has probably been denied food and water. I can tell. Here, I have a skin of - “

I pull Leliana away as Cullen snaps at her. 

“Don’t touch me! Stay away! Filthy blood mages… getting in my head… I will not break… I’d rather die.”

“Where are the other survivors?” Ash asks urgently.

“What others?” Cullen groans, struggling to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred,” Wynne says quickly. “Where are they?”

“They are in the Harrowing Chamber,” I say in perfect unison with the tortured templar, but he doesn’t notice as he continues. “The sounds coming from out of there… oh Maker…”

“We must hurry,” Wynne says. “They are in grave danger, I am sure of it.”

“You can’t save them. You don’t know what they’ve become!” Cullen shouts.

“I know you’re scared and in pain, Cullen but you are not yourself. Would you put innocent lives at risk just to prevent a blood mage escaping?” I ask despite knowing his answer.

“We cannot allow maleficarum to live!”

I turn away and bow my head, running a hand over my face. 

“Maker save us all,” I mutter.

“They’ve been surrounded by blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts!”

I look over at Alistair, knowing what he’s about to say. 

“His hatred of mages is so intense,” Alistair says. “The memory of his friends’ deaths is still fresh in mind…”

“You have to end it now, before it’s too late!” Cullen insists furiously.

“I want to save everyone who can possibly be saved,” Ash says firmly, glaring at the imprisoned templar.

“Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk? To ensure this horror is ended, to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there.”

“Ash, please don’t…” I beg quietly.

“I’d rather spare maleficarum than risk harming an innocent,” Ash says, meeting Cullen’s intensity. 

“Thank you,” Wynne says softly. “I knew you would make a rational decision.”

“Rational? How is this rational? Do you understand the danger?”

“I know full well the dangers of magic, but killing innocents because they might be maleficarum is not justice. I know you are angry - “

“You know nothing,” Cullen snarls, spit flying from his mouth, and I take an alarmed step back. “I am thinking about the future of the Circle! Of Ferelden!”

“I’m not about to spill the blood of innocents!” Ash snaps right back at him, losing her temper.

“I am just willing to see the painful truth, which you are content to ignore! Ugh, but what can I do? As you can see, I am in no position to directly influence your actions, though I would live to deal with the mages myself.”

“Good, then you can’t cause me any trouble.”

“My cage is Uldred’s doing, or one of his mages,” Cullen continues as if he didn’t hear her. “Once they’re dead, I will be free.”

“We’ll be back soon,” Ash sighs.

“Maker turn His gaze on you,” the templar glares. “I hope your compassion hasn’t doomed us all.”

We all turn away from Cullen, Ash looking up the stairs to the Harrowing Chamber. I hurry over to her and cautiously place a hand on her shoulder. She turns and gives me a wary look. 

“I’m assuming you already know what we’ll find up there?”

“Uldred is possessed by a Pride demon and he’s systematically turning the mages into abominations. We have to stop him using the Litany. Give it to Wynne, she’ll know how to use it best. This is going to be difficult, but _**do not**_ accept anything ‘Uldred’ offers you.”

“Understood.” She turns to address the other three. “Leliana, you defend Wynne while I lead Charlie and Alistair against Uldred. Let’s make this as quick and clean as we possibly can.”

An inhuman scream sounds from the door upstairs and we all look up. A nervous shiver runs up my back. 

“Let’s move.”

We all hurry up the stairs and through the door just in time to see a mage being transformed into an abomination. 

“Uldred,” I whisper nervously as Uldred himself approaches with an unnerving smile.

“Ahh… look what we have here,” the abomination drawls. “Intruders. I bid you welcome. Care to join in our… revels?”

“Stop what you’re doing immediately!” Ash shouts, and I shake my head in dismay.

“Oh, how could I disobey when you say that in such a commanding voice?” It says sarcastically. “I’m quite impressed you’re still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean you killed my servants. Ah, well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence.”

“You’re turning these people into abominations!”

“And freeing them in the process! A mage is but the larval form of something greater. Your Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential! Look at them. The Chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something glorious.” 

“You’re mad!” Wynne says angrily. “There’s nothing glorious about what you’ve become, Uldred!” 

“Uldred? He is gone,” the abomination chuckles. “I am Uldred and yet not Uldred. I am more than he was.”

“That’s not Uldred anymore, you can’t reason with it,” I say, frustrated. “We have no choice but to fight it.”

“I could give you this gift, Wynne. You and all mages. It would be so much easier if you just accepted it. But some people can be so stubborn…”

“Of course they are!” Ash snarls. “You’re trying to destroy their lives!”

“Resistance! Everywhere I go, resistance! How very inconsiderate. I even have the First Enchanter on my side, don’t I... Irving?”

Our attention turns to the group of unchanged mages behind the abominations. Irving is the only one standing, but only barely staying on his feet it seems. 

“What have you done to him?!” Wynne gasps.

“Stop him… he… is building an army. He will… destroy the templars and - “

“You’re a sly little fox, Irving, telling on me like that,” ‘Uldred’ says in a baby voice. “And here I thought he was starting to turn.”

“N-never…” Irving hisses weakly.

“That’s enough out of you, Irving. He’ll serve me eventually. As will you…”

“Ash…” I hiss warningly.

“No I won’t, I’d rather die!”

“Killing you would be a waste! Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon behind it, would be unstoppable. I can do that - I can give you power, and a new life.”

“That’s going too far!” Ash snarls, taking an aggressive step forward “You die **now**!”

“Fight, if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter.”

“Wynne, the Litany!” I mutter and the senior enchanter nods.

With an explosion of light, Uldred grows into a towering Pride demon and my fear surges. But Alistair and Ash are already charging at it and I’m compelled to follow. 

Hanging back, I loop around to the back of the demon to slash at the tendons of its knees. It roars but doesn’t go tumbling like I’d hoped. Alistair is holding its attention as Ash circles around to stand next to me and we stab and slash at its knees and back. Finally, it falls to its knees and I push Ash out of the way as Alistair lunges at the demon’s neck. They fall backwards and his sword sinks into its neck, he twists the blade as it reaches for him and it goes limp with a horrible wet, gurgle.

\---

“Cullen, I know you probably won’t listen now but not all mages are like Uldred,” I say quietly, then take a step back as he gives me a cruel sneer. 

“What would you know about it?” He growls. “ **Nothing**! Leave me be, woman, you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Cullen, I-“

I pause as my eyes sting and my vision blurs. 

Cullen is in a shouting match with an apprentice. She shifts her stance aggressively and he backhands her. The weight of his grieves sends her against the wall and to the floor. He looks shocked then takes a step back as the Knight-Commander rushes in and pulls Cullen aside. Irving shouts at Greagoir as another mage helps the apprentice to her feet. Cullen is brought to the Knight-Commander's office and transfer papers are signed. 

I’m on the ground, sitting against the wall as Alistair blocks Cullen from getting to me. 

“She’s possessed, just look at her eyes,” he snarls, but the Knight-Commander pulls him back. 

“We shall see for ourselves. Irving, if you would?”

“Of course.”

The First Enchanter holds a hand over my head and a flash of light sends a shock through my body. I flinch and groan, but nothing happens. 

“She is not possessed, but it is a curious magic she has,” Irving muses, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “We should investigate.”

“I’m not about to stay here and let you study me, I’m not a mage,” I protest as Ash helps me to my feet. 

“Indeed, she is not,” Wynne speaks up from behind the templars. “She has shown no other sign of magical ability, and I believe she is no danger to anyone aside from her ability with a weapon.”

“Very well,” Greagoir relents, surprisingly. “But get this woman out of here. Now.”

“I’ll meet you by the ferry,” I tell Ash, then walk out the tower doors.


End file.
